


Come close, closer still (I want your body near mine)

by MatildaSwan



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, First Kiss, Kate breaks her leg one time if that's a squick for ppl, Osgood in a dress + going shopping w her mother, Pre-Relationship, emotional support and physical affection in times of crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 09:44:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12105993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MatildaSwan/pseuds/MatildaSwan
Summary: Kate and Osgood are close, for colleagues, for friends, though neither of them are much for hugs.That doesn't mean they never touch.





	1. would you sit by me and lend me your strength

**Author's Note:**

  * For [withkissesfour](https://archiveofourown.org/users/withkissesfour/gifts), [lesbianquill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianquill/gifts).



> One time I asked for some touch prompts and Lo threw me 'Kate/Osgood: leaning on a shoulder' bc she knows what my vibe is ❤️
> 
> cw: Osgood has a bit of a panic spiral

It has been a long few days for Osgood, spent aboard an alien vessel hovering above Earth, operating as technical support and trying to get to grips with the science of the ship’s operating system while Kate negotiates yet another treaty to ensure the continued survival of the human race. 

Unfortunately, neither of them had get very far at all before dissent in the ranks of their hosts starts to murmur. They’d barely had a chance to blink before the murmurs became an all out coup: one that vehemently opposed human interaction.   
   
In a flash the once sincere offer of negation turns sour and possibly lethal. The last few hours had seen them running for their lives, with a side helping of ducking and hiding, to avoid spending the rest of it incarcerated as hostages or, more likely that not, just dead.   
   
Osgood doesn’t know how her legs manage to work that long or that hard to get across the entire length of the ship, just that they do, as she fights to keep up with Kate charging ahead to get them to safety. She is still confused about how the sight of Kate with a gun can be so unnerving and reassuring all at the same time but she tries not to dwell as they finally make it into the hangar deck.   
   
Osgood hits the door release closed on her way though and follows Kate already running into what is, for all intent and purposes, now an escape shuttle. Kate hangs just inside the doorframe, standing guard, while Osgood rushes past her and into what she assumes is the cockpit.  
   
She hears the sound of the door release at the same time as weapon fire; smashes the big blue flashing button she is pretty sure will jettisoned them off the ship and out into space.  
   
The jumper lurches and she reaches out to stabilise herself, recognises the symbol on the green button just beside her hand and hits that too, manages to right herself by the time the view out of the front window sees the interior of the hangar replaced with the bright of stars racing past.  
   
She hears footsteps come closer as the racing stars start to slow; the shuttle slows down to leave them hopefully safe and cloaked on the far side of the moon and out of reach of the alien vessel.   
   
“Any idea how to fly this thing?” Kate asks, voice gravel rough from days of overuse and hours of overexertion from running.  
   
Osgood doesn’t look at Kate standing beside her, doesn’t look up from the console, curses herself for being more interested in the theories behind their technology that its practical application. She thought she would have more time.   
   
She hovers her hands over the panel of buttons and levers flashing foreign right in front of her, leaves the tiny jumper hovering in space while Osgood tries to figure out how to steer the thing, leaves them hovering just outside of Earth atmosphere until Osgood figures out how to get them home.   
   
“Osgood?” Kate’s voice comes from somewhere near her elbow.   
   
She doesn’t reply.   
   
Her legs are aching, slight tremble, she can feel her throat is hoarse, all that panting, panicking, shouting. She needs to get them home.  
   
She realises Kate is standing beside her, feels the exhausted calm radiate from her. Her own body is too taut and too tired, overwrought, adrenaline once coursing through her body now spent, leaving her muscles shaking and her chest aching and her head fuzzy. She can’t think how to get them home.  
   
She breathes in, holds the count. Tries to read, tries to think. Holds the count, breaths out. She has no idea how to get them home.   
   
Her knees buckle against the weight of it all.   
   
She reaches out, arms flailing to catch herself, ends up with a handfuls of Kate’s sleeves and her waist in Kate’s hand. She tries to right herself but her legs won’t work and she falls against Kate, feels a strong grip gently guiding her to the ground; she relents, plonks herself down, turns to lean back against the console, legs spread out in front of her.   
   
She opens her mouth, tries to apologise, can’t find the words. Turns her face away from Kate feeling tired and ashamed. Closes her eyes and shakes her head.  
   
“Not yet,” she croaks, leaning forward to draw her knees up to her chest, wonders how much oxygen they have in this tiny space.  
   
She feels Kate pivot on her toes and sit down beside her. Having Kate beside her makes her feel better; having Kate down here with her makes her feel worse.   
   
“It’s okay, we’ve got time,” Kate says, voice barely above a croak. “We’ve safe now, Osgood, we’ve got time.”  
   
Osgood nods, forehead still resting on her knees, hums her understanding but does not look up. Doesn’t look up when she feels an arm slide behind neck to rest on her back. Doesn’t look up when Kate starts to rub tiny circles between her shoulder blades.  
   
She just turns, unthinking, flops against Kate’s body. Curls her neck to rest her cheek on Kate’s shoulder. She feels Kate tense for a moment, thinks about pulling away, before Kate relaxes next to her. Osgood breathes out as Kate slides her hand over Osgood’s back to rest on her shoulder.  
   
“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Kate promises, squeezing her hand and pulling Osgood even closer. Osgood sniffles, whimpers, nuzzles her face into the crook of Kate’s neck. Relaxes in the comfort of Kate’s arms and shivers when she feels the breath of Kate’s whisper against the top of her scalp: “I’ve got you.”


	2. I may be no action woman but I’m happy to have your back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negotiations turn sour and Kate and Osgood find themselves running for their lives, _again_. Until Kate gets hurt and can't walk anymore, let alone run, and Osgood refuses to leave her behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nat sent me 'Kate/Osgood: piggieback' bc she's an absolute champ 
> 
> Shout out to Sarah for being my medical advisor and Lo for being a beta-ing babe *blows u both kisses*
> 
> cw: broken leg+pinched nerve=limp noodle foot

“Ma’am!”

Kate hears Osgood’s yell resound in the corridor before she even realises she’s stopped running. Feels the fall before she sees the crack and jut of the stone floor. Feels the break long before she’s registered hitting the ground.

She screws her eyes shut and whimpers softly as she presses her forehead against the cold floor. Curls onto her side and brings her knees in on herself, as if that might choke the scream resting in her chest or ease the pain throbbing in her leg. She keeps her eyes shut as she hears Osgood call her name, as she feels Osgood’s hands flitter frantic from her shoulder to her back to her hip, as she feels Osgood brush against Kate’s own hands; hands hovering above her leg, desperate to hold it till it stops hurting, but too scared to touch knowing it won’t help.

“Ma’am, what happened, are you alright?” Osgood’s asks, panic and concern palpable, as Kate stays curled up and whimpering.

Kate shakes her head and flaps a hand at Osgood, to calm her down and usher her away. She pushes herself up on her elbows and swipes at the sweat formed on her brow; rests her weight on her hip and finally opens her eyes.

“No, Osgood, I’m not,” Kate bites out. She press her knuckles into the ground to sit up properly as she does her best to access the situation through the fog of pain, constantly cycling back to one solid, essential idea: “We need to get out of here.”

Kate tries to stand under her own steam, to push herself upright and off the ground. Fails. She feels Osgood’s arm looped around her waist and hauling her up before she’s had a chance to ask for help, instinctually loops her own arms around Osgood’s neck, bracing herself against Osgood’s side as she rests her body weight on one foot. She vaguely registers Osgood feels surprisingly sturdy beside her as she shuffles to settle the second foot on the ground, struggling to keep a groan from clawing its way out of her throat. She muffles it as best she can till it ends up a whimper, sharp and nasal high, as she rest her weight on both feet now flat on the ground.

She clings to Osgood as she bends gently at the knee, sees Osgood look up and down the corridor in the corner of her peripheries, straightens again and loosens her grip.

She clenches her jaw as she takes a step, keeps it clutches as she takes another, as she takes another to peel away from Osgood completely to leave her hovering a foot behind.

“Right, let’s go,” Kate forces out, balling her hand into a fist and walking as close to her normal pace as she can manage as they continues up the corridor towards their extraction point. They only have to make one more turn to get eyes on the rendez-vous.

Kate attempts to pick up the pace, to rush towards the corner, only to collapse a few steps later. This time Osgood catches her before she hits the ground: wraps an arm around her waist to stabilise, shuffles her over towards the wall, pushes Kate back till she’s leaning against the wall.

Kate loops an arm under her thigh to brace her leg and leaves it hanging above the ground; rests the back of her head against the brick and takes a few shaky breaths.

“How bad?” Kate bites out, eyes burning, as she looks up at the granite ceiling. She can just make out the top of Osgood’s head as she crouches slightly to get a better at look at Kate’s leg.

“I, ah, umm, it’s not, I mean…” Osgood stammers and Kate inhales sharply.

“Osgood!” Kate snaps, all her patience funnelled into trying not to cry. She looks down to meet Osgood’s eyes looking back at her, concern evident behind her glasses.

“You’re foot, it’s gone…funny,” Osgood mumbles. “Like that time McGillop knocked over that stack of crates in the subbasement.”

Kate’s stomach rolls at the memory: rescuing their head of R&D from under a bundle of broken wood and artefacts only to realise a broken bone had pinched a nerve that left his left foot limp and dangling when he tried to stand. She hadn’t been able to tear her eyes away from the odd angle it sat in as they waited for the paramedics. She resists the urge to look at her own.

“You need to get out of here, right now,” Osgood mumbles as she slips an arm around Kate’s waist to pull her close. Kate slings an arm over Osgood shoulder, lets herself be pulled away from the wall, does her best to hop up the corridor using Osgood as a crutch.

“It’s not like we were already trying to do that,” Kate snarks through gritted teeth, panting and heaving as the approach the corner. She barely manages to smirk at her own joke when the faint calls of soldiers and clatter of boots make their way up the corridor. Osgood’s grip on her waist gets tighter and she practically throws them around the corner. The extraction point is within sight and just out of reach.

Kate falters. Her knee gives out. She just manages to push herself towards the wall to brace her fall instead of going face first into the ground and possibly snapping her leg in two.

Osgood is in front of her in an instant, hands reaching out to help; Kate ducks away, flattening herself against the wall.

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” Kate whimpers as she tries to massage her cramp stiffened thigh. She thinks she can make out the sound of individual boots on the ground now; hopes one of them falls and cracks their head open. “Go!” Her mouth is dry and her whole body aches and she’s not sure she can feel her foot anymore. “One of us needs to get out of here and report back to base—”

“Both of us need to get out of here,”  Osgood replies, voice just shy of frantic.

“We can’t Osgood, I can’t,” Kate spits out as she swallow the burn of bile at the back of her her throat. “Go, please,” she says, so quiet it’s almost begging. They both know the corridor won’t stay empty for long. “Don’t make me order you.”

“Don’t make me disobey you,” Osgood insists as her eyes dart left and right, obviously racking her brain for a way to get them out of there, until her eye narrow behind her glasses as she settles on a way to get them out of there. “Come on, I’ll carry you.”

“What, no!” Kate splutters, gapes. “Don’t be ridiculous, just go,” she says, mouth still slack, pushing Osgood away by the shoulders, pushing her away. “I’ll be alright, go!”

The both know it’s a lie: not with Kate’s leg and especially with the hash they made of negotiations that led them to running for their lives though winding stone tunnels in the first place.

“I’m not leaving you!” Osgood all but shouts, her eyes wide and fearful. Kate starts, stunned and wide eyed, stammers slightly. She sees Osgood suck in a deep breath and soften, feels Osgood slip a hand into Kate’s, looks down to watch their fingers tangle together. “Please, Kate,” Osgood whispers and Kate looks up into her eyes. “I can’t leave you, and you can’t do it on your own.”

Kate sucks in a shaky breath, squeezes Osgood’s hand, nods sharply.

Osgood smiles—more a grimace with the absence of fear that a smile—and turns her back to Kate. She crouches down enough for Kate to brace against her back and wraps her arms around Kate’s knees; Kate wrap her arms around her neck and leans against Osgood’s back as she stand up again. Osgood gently jostles her upwards, one leg at a time, and Kate lets out a gentle “oof” each time her weight settles properly on either side. Her thighs grip hard around Osgood’s hips.

Kate wants to say _“this is ridiculous you can’t carry me you can’t walk like this it’s impossible”_ but keeps her mouth shut when Osgood takes her weight in her stride and make towards the door, not quite fast enough to be a jog, but so much faster than Kate had been expecting. Kate feels her eyes go wide as she notices the bulge of Osgood’s bicep against her sides and the strength of her grip under Kate’s thighs. If she were standing on her own two feet Kate suspects she might be a bit weak at the knee; keeps that observation to herself and settles for clinging to Osgood just a little tighter as she tries to keep her leg steady.

They reach the door—the one that promises to lead them out of the underground caves and into the tunnels leading to the world outside and the rest of their team already waiting for them—and Osgood lets go of Kate’s left leg. She reaches out to the door control while holding Kate’s right leg firm against her as Kate slides off her back. She only lets go when Kate is safely tucked into the corner and leaning back against the wall.

Kate closes her eyes, Osgood punching in code after code as she works though the list of credentials they were given on their arrival at breakneck speed, and tries to get her thoughts in order. She can still feel the phantom of Osgood’s body against hers: the pane of Osgood’s back against her stomach, the cut of shoulder blades curled against her breasts, the grip of Osgood’s hands around her thighs. She can still feel Osgood pressed tight against her, sharper than the throb in her leg or the ache in her head, and does her best not to think about how that makes her feel. She gets distracted by the Osgood’s hum of success and the hiss of the door unsealing.

Kate opens her eyes to look over Osgood’s shoulder. Sees a troop of soldiers turning the corner. Sees them halt. Sees them take aim. Her whole body rushes white hot and numb.

Kate yells and curls to the side as Osgood throws the door open. She hears weapons fire and a series of pings hitting the door. Feels Osgood wraps an arm around her waist. Feels herself hauled over the threshold and into the safety the next room. Hears the door slammed shut and finds herself dumped, gently enough given the circumstances, near enough to the wall to reach out and brace herself steady.

The room is filled with the Osgood’s mutterings and the peep of the door control and the muffled clang of boots on the other side of the wall.

Kate pushes a palm against the stone and and stares straight ahead, standing on one leg with the other kinked like a flamingo, and breathing heavy through the adrenaline coursing through her. She glances to the side to see Osgood still frantically entering codes, mumbling about deadlock seals, and realise that Osgood just carried her—her whole body weight in one arm—through the door to get her to safety before Kate could even think to issue an order.

She blinks at Osgood, slightly slack jawed and panting, and struggles to follow her own thoughts as they race through how strong Osgood is—how brave she just was— _what would I do without her_ and  _she just saved my life_ and  _good god she’s so_ strong _._

The door hisses again as the control peeps and Kate takes Osgood’s sigh of relief as a good sign, especially given she seems remarkably unperturbed by the crashing and banging on the other side.

Kate twists to face Osgood, a bit wide eyed and blinking rapidly, as Osgood turns towards her.

“Thank you, for listening, for trusting me,” Osgood starts, reaching out to take Kate’s free hand and help keep her steady on one foot. Kate slides their palms together and feels her skin tingle. “I promise I’ll get you out of here,” Osgood reassures her, rubbing her thumb over Kate’s knuckle.

She blinks at Osgood, smiling small and bright, standing tall and strong and barely a foot away. Inhales deeply as her blood hums and her leg aches and her head throbs, and does what any reasonable person would do in the situation: pulls Osgood close and holds her tight and kisses her hard and doesn’t even think of letting her go.


	3. I have your back and I want the rest of you too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Osgood doesn't like crowds, but maybe having Kate near will make things easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked for 'Kate/Osgood: piggybacking' so these two got to switch places :3 Also, based on a headcanon where Ella and Elena are parallel soul in different universes, Osgood's mother is Penelope Alvarez (One Day at a Time)
> 
> shout out to Lo and Reg for beta-ing ❤️ 
> 
> cw: Osgood has anxiety+OCD and is bad at crowds and sometimes saying words

Osgood rarely joins Kate at work functions. No matter how many times Kate extends an invitation, Osgood is almost never interested. This time is no different.

She spots the envelope in Kate’s hand as she strolls into Osgood’s lab and grimaces. She has a reasonably well planned out refusal in her head by the time Kate gets to her desk. She’s halfway through it when Kate pins her with a stare that definitely, absolutely, positively does not make Osgood squeak.

She falls silent, her cheeks burning, while Kate informs her that attendance is compulsory; hums, resigned, when Kate tells her why: it’s a bit difficult to not attend a ceremony when it involves a medal presented in your honour.

 _At least Kate will be there_ , Osgood thinks to herself as she circles the date on her calendar. Things are usually better with Kate, maybe crowds will be too,  _maybe it won’t be so bad._  If it is that bad, then she’ll have company she actually likes already there. For that, at least, she’s glad.

The shopping involved in getting there is another matter entirely.

*

“ _Mami_ , you know I’m not big on dresses,” Osgood whines from inside the first of many changing rooms she expects to see that day as Penelope shoves still more dresses into the cubicle.

“You should have thought about that before you cancelled on the tailoring appointment,” her mother calls back through the curtain, then pauses for effect. “Three times!”

“It’s not my fault!” Osgood huffs. She doesn’t even bother struggling with the too tight black dress she knows she’ll hate anyway. It really wasn’t her fault. “Kate needed my help!”

“That Kate needs you for a lot of things.”

“Yes, she does rather,” Osgood mumbles to herself, smiles as she gets lost in memories of all the ways Kate needs her, all the ways she’s told Osgood she needs her, since her leg healed. She loves making Kate need her.

The curtains rattles. Osgood snaps out of her daydream. She blinks to find a hanger wiggling in front of her face, thinks that shade of moss green might grow on her if the dress were a different cut, and hands it and the other discarded dressed back out again.

“You know you’ve left it too late to get anything custom-made,  _mija_ ,” Penelope points out, juggling the vetoed dresses in her arms before the shop assistant comes over to help. “Dresses have more options, there has to be at least one thing you like in all these shops.”

Osgood huffs again as she tries to fix the shoulder straps before giving up with a shrug. Her mother is right, she knows, she did do this to herself. That doesn’t stop the whole experience from chafing.

“I just don’t see what the fuss is about,” she complains as she strips off and shoves it and the empty hanger back out to her mother. “It’s just a ceremony, it’s not that important.”

“It is,  _mi amor_ , you know that,” her mother says softly, kindly. “What you do is important, and we’re so proud of you for it, but it’s not every day that work gets recognised.”

Osgood flushes, still unsure how to respond to her family’s pride—never had the chance to practice, when their compliments always felt so few and far between—and shakes her head. “I don’t do it for attention.”

“Which makes this all the more important,” Penelope rebuts as Osgood tries one last dress.

This one she chose, albeit entirely halfheartedly and mainly to appease her mother, because the colour seems comforting. She unzips it and realises it’s the same peach as Kate’s favourite pair of shoes.

She chuckles to herself as she steps into the dress. Wiggles a little to catch the zip and realises Penelope is still chatting to her from the other side of the cubicle.

“Maybe it’s be easier if you had a uniform to wear—honestly I think that’s why your father liked service so much, it’s easier on the wardrobe—but the situation calls for dressing up a bit and we’re not stopping until you’ve got something to wear.”

“I know,  _mami_ ,” Osgood says with a sigh, resigned to her fate, as the teeth  _shink_  closed. She tugs at the collar to settle it; looks in the mirror and blinks at her reflection.

Osgood rustles the skirt till it billows out around her feet, touching the ground a few inches too much in her flat feet, and rocks up onto her tiptoes. Smoothes the bodice down, twisting from side to side to take in the angles—the ponytail doesn’t really suit, but she can worry about that later, and as for the rest—she thinks she looks quite pretty.

She could cry from relief, because finding something she looks pretty enough in means she’s one step closer to all this being over; instead, she smiles till her eyes crinkle behind her frames and walks out of the change room.

She spies her mother skimming through racks, and calls out. Penelope turns to her and her eyes go wide.

“Oh, Ella,” she gasps softly. “You look beautiful.”

Osgood blushes, scuffs the tips of her boots, stares at the carpet. “And, ah, I’m going to need some new shoes,” she adds, looking up at her mother. “Heels to be precise.”

Penelope smiles like all her Christmases have come at once.

*

The red circled date arrives and Osgood spends the whole day in the Tower pretending nothing is happening that night; also manages to have a day where nothing happens in the Tower either.

She gets to take her lunch break with Kate.

“You all ready for tonight?” Kate queries, innocent as ever, munching on her sandwich.

She knows Osgood is as ready as she’ll ever be, has gotten more than an earful about the shopping trip since then, knows Osgood’s had her outfit stashed away from prying eyes ever since. She’s teasing and Osgood knows it.

Kate tongues at a piece of watercress stuck in her teeth and Osgood decides to get her back at her own game.

“Mmh,” Osgood mumbles, nodding as she swallows. “That last series of chemical tests should be done tonight, I ought to have the results finalised by tomorrow afternoon.”

“No, I mean, the ceremony?” Kate says with frown and Osgood knows she’s got Kate fooled. “Don’t tell me you forgot? Oh,  _Osgood_!”

Osgood does her best impression of contrite and shocked. The look stays on her face for all of three seconds before she slips to a smirk, glancing up at Kate under thick frames.

Kate huffs, knows she’s been had, and shakes her head gently; fond irritation on her face and a smile at the corner of her mouth.

Osgood smiles wider when Kate turns back and holds her hands up, palms open. “Oh, very good, you got me.”

Osgood resists the urge to poke out her tongue. Settles for a shrug instead. “Actually, I was hoping to head home early today, I’ve already finished the specs you wanted—they’re on your desk—and assuming we’re not invaded by aliens before the evening, there’s nothing urgent that needs my attention till tomorrow morning…” she trails off as Kate looks a little bewildered.

Osgood wonders if she’s ever actually asked for time off before. Nothing springs to mind.

“Of course.” Kate nods, recovered. “Whenever you need to leave.”

“Great, thanks!” Osgood pops that last of her sandwich in her mouth, dusts her fingers off.

“We could share a car,” Kate offers, “and get ready toge—”

Osgood stands abruptly, chair grating on the floor. She’s kept the dress a secret this long and she can’t help but want to keep it that way a little longer.

“Best get back to work then,” she cuts Kate off. “Wrap everything up before I leave.” She tucks her chair in and picks up her rubbish. “I’ll see you later,” she calls over her shoulder, rushing out of the room.

She leaves a rather flummoxed Kate alone with the last of her egg and cress.

*

Her neighbour comes out into the hall just as Osgood fumbles her key, cussing as she catches them on her knee. She sees them do a double take out of the corner of her eye.

She turns, offers them a small wave and a smile, and turns the key to her apartment.

She can’t blame them for not recognising her, for being suspicious of a stranger in the corridor. She really doesn’t get home much and certainly not this early; doesn’t have much to come home too, except all her things in the right right place and somewhere to sleep at night.

Until recently that had always been enough—it still is, really—but now she has other things to look forward to some nights, and another bed to wake up in some mornings.

She spends her shower musing over how much she likes having things to look forward to.

She comes out of the bathroom damp and pink and clean. Potters around her room as she rubs herself over with the towel one, twice, and again. Drops her towel into the hamper for the moment and does her best to ignore the itching to wash it all now and gets dressed first.

She steps into her favourite pair of trunks, straps into her nicest bra—beige but with enough lace touches to make her feel a little fancy—and slips into her dress.

She takes a few moments to enjoy her reflection, wonders if she should have bought new underwear, if that’s what normal women do, if that’s what she should have done. Shakes her head and the thought away with it and puts on her load of laundry.

She pads back to her room, stands in front of the reasonably sparse collection of makeup, and does more than she normally would.

She looks at the rouge and highlighter kit her sister gave her for Christmas, the one she’d thanked her as bright as she could after reading ‘thought your face could do with a little colour. Chloe xx’ on the card attached, and then dropped it in the bottom of her present bag. She’d never bothered to open it, but she hadn’t thrown it away either.

She googles a few Youtube tutorials, finds them informative if convoluted, and thinks she makes a rather decent go of it. Adds some mascara, some shine to her lips, lets her hair down. Looks in the mirror, fluffs it up a little, and throws a few pins to keep the sides back.

She takes off her glasses, just to see what it looks like albeit out of focus, and for a moment she wonders if she looks too much like her sister.

She puts her glasses back and looks at herself in the mirror. Adjusts her frames, tries to put her hands in her pockets only to realise she doesn’t have any; wraps a scarf around her neck, soft and pink and borrowed from Kate with no intention of ever returning, for added comfort. Flicks her hair out from under the scarf and looks at her reflection again.

The only person she sees looking back is herself. Not an Osgood she sees very often, granted, but an Osgood nonetheless: one she’d rather like to be, just for tonight.

She smiles gently and unwraps the scarf, leaves it out on the bed, and slips on a pair of wooly socks. Puts her clothes in the dryer and potters around the house till that’s finished; puts it all away and slips her barefeet into her heels, slips her bare arms into a coat, slips her bare essentials into her pockets and wraps herself up warm.

She checks the doors and windows and powerpoints, takes a photo of the dormant dryer for reassurance. She checks the time, calls a cab, and walks up the hall; catches her reflection in the hallway mirror, smooths down her scarf and smiles bright, flicking off the last light.

She pulls the front door shut behind her, satisfied as she’ll ever be that everything is fine and as it ought to be, and checks it’s locked three times.

*

Osgood bundles herself out of the backseat with a sigh of relief. The cab had been late and she spent the whole trip anxious she’d be late too. She mumbles a brief ‘cheers have a good night’ before she slams the door shut; stumbles over the gravel driveway up to the stairs of the hotel, huddling into her coat.

She keeps huddling, for comfort more than warmth, as she follows the signs through reception and to the back of the building. She walks into a huge conference room, filled to the brim with colleagues and strangers and their families, and realises the room is actually very warm.

One of the hosts comes over to check her against the attendance list and offers to take her coat. She thinks they might have blinked rapidly as she slips it off her shoulders, is sure they give her the once over as she folds it in her arms. She passes it over with a shy smile, fusses with the scarf and smooths down the the front of the dress to dry her palms, and looks out over the room.

She’d recognise Kate’s bob a mile away and makes towards her with a smile. Kate senses someone watching her and turns; beams when she recognises Osgood’s face, goes wide eyed as Osgood stops a foot in front of her.

Kate rakes her eyes over Osgood—lips parting slightly as she drinks in her, smiles softly as she recognises the scarf—before coming to rest on Osgood’s face.

“You scrub up well,” Kate says simply, the plainness of the compliment offset by the weight in her voice, the sparkling of her eyes.

Osgood flushes. She wants to reach out, to hold Kate’s hand, but the room is too full. It’s not just them and she isn’t sure how to, if she’s allowed to. She smiles instead, keeps blushing as Kate keeps looking at her, and hopes it’s enough. Smiles till she can’t handle Kate’s bright, dark eyes anymore and averts her gaze.

She looks over Kate’s shoulder and recognises McGillop chatting to someone over in the corner. She points towards them, stammering an explanation, brushing past Kate as she goes to greet them.

She feels Kate’s stare hot on her back as she walks over. Feels herself sashay a little in response, feels her hips swing and her skirt swish, and is sure she hears a familiar sharp intake of breath. She knows that’s impossible, not with the distance between them and the din of the room, but she’s certain all the same. She barely resists the urge to glance back over her shoulder, as McGillop introduces his boyfriend, because she knows Kate is still looking at her.

*

The ceremony itself is short. Remarkably so, given how long Osgood expected it to be, given how many acts of valour over the past year Geneva had to acknowledge of its UK branch.

Part of her wishes Kate were beside her, knows this would be faster still, if they were together. The other part of her is glad for the distance, that Kate is on stage along with the rest of the top brass. She isn’t sure she could handle the nerves if Kate being near made her insides tingle, too.

They make it through the military personnel to the civilian names and she’s ushered up to trot across the stage, over to the podium, feels her skirt billow and blushes slightly. She stops in front of Kate, smiling shining and proud, and beams as she pins a medal to her chest.

She could swear the crowd claps a little harder just for her and Kate the loudest of all.   

*

She hadn’t prepared herself for the shoulder clapping and congratulations after the ceremony. Manages to withstand it for about ten minutes, eyes peeled for Kate all the while, before it all gets a bit much and she needs some air.

Osgood walks towards an open door at the side of the room, hoping it leads to an alcove or a balcony: some place quiet. She finally spots Kate, in the middle of a heated conversation with someone she recognised from the MOD, and doesn’t think to interrupt them.

She ducks outside, sees the balcony is empty, and pushes the door mostly closed behind her. She turns to the brusque night air, so welcome after the stifling conference room, and breathes deep. She stares up at the stars and enjoys the peaceful night air.

She’s still out there, counting constellations, when she hears the door creak open. She regrets the break of solitude until she hears a familiar voice. “Thought you might be out here.”

Osgood turns to Kate and smiles. “It’s quiet.”

“Not for long, I’m afraid. It took me ten minutes to talk my way out of a dreadfully boring conversation with one of the new advisors in Defence and I wouldn’t put it past him to follow me out here. And there’s me, of course, sorry,” she adds with a halfhearted shrug, clearly not very sorry at all.

Osgood chuckles gently, turning back to look over the garden. She smiles as Kate comes to join her, leaning over the balcony railing beside her.  

“You know I like your company.”

Their elbows brush.

She squints at a light in the far corner of the garden to make out a gazebo sitting in the middle of a grassy section.

“Oh, that’s pretty,” she muses, pointing when Kate tilts her head to frown slightly. “Looks quiet, too. I doubt anyone would follow us there.” She hadn’t expected her voice to sound quite so wistful and blushes.

Kate pushes away from the balcony and holds her hand out.

“Come on, then. Let’s go.”

Osgood almost faints with relief. Slides her palm into Kate’s. Holds on tight, as they walk back into the room and through the crowds, out the other side again. Follows Kate’s lead through a corridor or two, because she seems to know where she’s going, because she’d follow Kate anywhere if she asked.

Kate only lets go of her hand to push open the ajar fire exit that opens up into the garden.

She ushers Osgood through first, strides up next to her, walks beside her as they move away from the muffled rumble of the party. Their arms brush from time to time as they walk in the night air, silent save for the crunch of gravel underfoot, until the path gives way to plant matter.

Kate steps close, crouches down, mumbling about violets and alfalfa and mustard sprouts as she combs her hand over the ground cover.

Osgood looks towards the nearby gazebo, even prettier up close: the fairy lights along the awning set the white of the posts pastel and glittering bright in the dark. It’s also fifteen feet away. And the ground is wet. Even if she hitches up her dress to tread over the grass she’ll ruin her shoes.

“Oh well, that’s rubbish,” Osgood huffs, mindful of the edge of the flowerbed she knows isn’t actually a flowerbed but still can’t bring herself to walk over.

Kate hums absently, still distracted with the genus of the plants near her toes.

“I can’t walk over the grass, not without stepping stones or something”

She turns back as Kate stands, scrunching her fingers in her suit pants to dry them. Osgood squints at the gleam in her eyes.

“Well then,” Kate says, voice thick with mirth. “I’ll just have to carry you.”

Osgood blinks.

Kate smirks, eyebrow raised, and continues. “I mean, even if I had my coat I don’t think putting it down for you would help. Though I suppose you could hop…No? Right, piggyback it is.”

She stops in front of Osgood, on the other edge of the grass; bends her knees to brace herself, arms held out either side of her.

“Come on then,” Kate says over her shoulder, still smiling, eyeing Osgood in the corner of her peripheries. “It’s about time I returned the favour, anyway.”

There isn’t much for Osgood to do, given the circumstance, but to step forward, despite her better judgement, and jump on.

She giggles as Kate jostles her up to settle back down properly, clings tight as Kate takes a few steps forward, thinks she might be choking Kate when she heaves and falters slightly. Osgood slips slightly, tries to squeeze her thighs tighter to loosen her arms, but senses this is a losing battle as Kate slows down a little more with each step.

She still manages another four feet until her legs give out.

Kate crumples at the knee and falls face first into the wet grass, lets go of Osgood thighs to stop herself just before she hits the ground completely. Osgood tries to brace her fall, holds herself up either side of Kate’s head, keeps as much of her weight off Kate as she can. Still ends up sprawled out on top of her of a few moments before she manages to push away as she tries to sit back on her knees.

Kate twists underneath her, her hips trapped between Osgood’s parted thighs, and reaches out; stops Osgood moving away with a hand in her hair and her thumb on her cheek. Kate runs the pad of her thumb over the apple of Osgood’s cheek, flicks her eyes down to Osgood’s lips, draws Osgood near and kisses her gently.

It’s so tender Osgood almost sobs.

She pulls back to suck in a shaky breath; pushes Kate flat against the ground to kiss her hard. Kate’s mouth turns ravenous. Osgood moans, parts her lips, groans as Kate rolls her onto her back. Rakes her fingers through Kate’s hair, and barely feels the damp against her shoulder blades.  

Kate seems to realise, though, when she break away to stammer: “Osgood, your dress, shit! I’m so sorry, I—”

Osgood shakes her head and yanks Kate back down to kiss her soundly. Kate hums against her mouth, lips soft and smiling into the kiss; till she frowns, murmurs, breaks away shaking her head.

“No, but it was so beautiful and I’ve probably ruined it.” Kate pouts, fairy lights shadowing her face, etching the furrow in her forehead deep. “And I dropped you, I’m so sorry, I—”

“Don’t be,” Osgood breaths out, intent on kissing Kate again—she’s wanted this all evening and can’t bear the thought of stopping now they’ve started—but Kate pulls away slightly, still apologising, and Osgood’s lips land on her cheek instead.

“It was sweet…” Osgood mumbles as she peppers kisses along Kate’s jaw. “That you tried…it was very…um, gallant?”

Kate barks out a laugh in Osgood’s ear.

“Yes, ‘gallant’ was exactly what I was aiming for,” she huffs, and Osgood can hear her rolling her eyes at herself. She draws back and flashes Kate a lopsided grin only to see Kate trying to shift back onto her heels.

Osgood reaches out to hold Kate’s elbows, flips her swiftly onto her back and presses their bodies tight. She giggles as Kate yelps, shocked; grunts, confused—her limbs akimbo and their hips pressed tight—breaths in as she blinks up at Osgood. Osgood grins as Kate snorts and relaxes into the grass.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, it’s not like either of us are hurt,” she reassures Kate. A palm settles on her forearm and the other against her shoulder; Osgood’s eyes crinkle as Kate twirls a curl between two fingers and tickles her chest. “Besides, it’s just a dress. I mean, I like it, but it doesn’t matter to me half as much as you do,” she whispers, hovering close, before kissing Kate again.

“Well, when you put it like that…” Kate quips with a smirk after Osgood pulls away, her eyes bright in the moonlight, till a cloud dulls their spark. She worries her bottom lip, drops her hand from Osgood’s hair, averts her gaze. Osgood waits her out, confused but patient, frowning as Kate turns back with worried eyes and a frown of her own pinching at her brow. “Half as much?”

Osgood’s face softens and she shakes her head gently.

“No, Kate, not even close,” she admits, smiling softly as the clouds in Kate’s eyes dissipate to leave just a few lingering traces of doubt. Osgood frowns—she wants them gone completely—breathes past the aching in her chest, breathes into the feeling she’s yet to find the words for, and does the best she can. “Nothing could matter to me half as much as you do,” she starts, taking in the uncertainly, the hopefulness, on Kate’s face before continuing. “Not when you matter the most.”

Kate blinks beneath her, gapes slightly, then smiles so bright it leaves Osgood blinking blind.

Osgood beams— _she got it right!_ —dips her head; sees spots on the back of her eyelids as she presses hard against Kate. She giggles as Kate rolls them over again, humming against her lips, and doesn’t give a second thought to the mud smearing over her back.


End file.
